


Said and Done

by gyromitra



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Because my waifu got into r76 after, Crack, Feel-good stuff, M/M, Smurfs (not even joking), Swearing, fluff with a specks of angst, half-joking about the Smurfs, i threw all my stuff at waifu, okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:32:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8816926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyromitra/pseuds/gyromitra
Summary: Feel-good cracky little thing - was never intended to become more but somehow it gained plot. Jack is crazy, Gabriel indulges him. The ugly-ass sweater saga continues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> That (h)awkward moment when you throw enough of your r76 fics at your waifu that waifu comes around to r76 and requests more of your crackverse and doesn’t say no to a joking suggestion of gabe/jack/outsider threesome. Waifu only mentions: you don’t do PWP, but…  
> God, I’ve created a monster.

Well. It was actually unavoidable, if he really thought about that, the universe would find a way to shit on all of his plans as it usually did and then actually do it in the most spectacular way possible, because there was no mistaking the man in the street below.

Sure, to someone who did not know the man as intimately as he did, the disguise was ample enough, but to one familiar with all the little mannerisms that made him, it was there, just ‘spit in your face’ obvious.

After he was done with mourning. After he had gone and buried him with moderate success. He really wasn’t sure if he was relieved, ecstatic, intrigued or simply furious. He would work that out later.

Which only meant that the whole strategy needed a serious reworking now for the new variable. Scratch that. Knowing Jack he needed a whole new plan that accounted for the whole new brand of batshit crazy that the other man brought to the table – on his good days. On his bad days, though…

“Sombra.”

“Ay?”

“I need you to do something posthaste.” She clicked her tongue while below something exploded. “Scrap any new intel our friends might be getting on Soldier 76.”

“What, he your friend, someone we can use or your amado?”

“Yes.” To all of the above.

“You are shitting me, right, grandpa?”

“Shut up and do it.”

“Ay. No need to get your panties in a twist. Was done a minute ago.” Reaper chuckled as a grenade exploded. All in all, it seemed it was a pretty good day for Jack. He didn’t look like he was missing any limbs this time. “Was that a laugh? Dios mio, you were serious!”

“And monitor any Overwatch activity that might be tied to him.”

“We’re stalking your ex-boyfriend now?”

“He isn’t my ex-boyfriend,” Gabriel growled into the receiver and cut the connection.

At least he hoped it wasn’t ex-boyfriend. A lot could have changed in the meantime. A lot did change.

Now, about that weapons transport, a perfect opportunity to work off some of that stress and sort through all the emotions.

*

Twenty-odd minutes later an explosion rattled windows of the warehouse where Jack was setting up. Upon inspection, a rather spectacular cloud of black smoke was visible in the night sky.

“Huh. Interesting.” It seemed that the Los Muertos problem sorted itself out. Not that he complained. He needed a day off.

*

Twenty-odd minutes later, Gabriel was pretty sure the thing he was feeling was giddiness. He detested the feeling deeply. Gabriel Reyes didn’t do giddy, on principle.

“For fuck’s sake.”

Out of pure spite he shot the ammo crate and noted that maybe next time he should consider standing a bit further away before blowing up a transport of contraband weapons. Hindsight was twenty-twenty, as they said.


	2. Chapter 2

After much deliberation, backpedaling on some deals, setting up new safehouses, and most importantly, bargaining with Sombra (mostly about video and picture rights), here he was, in a dank alley, shotguns poised and ready to shoot.

At least Jack wasn’t shooting. Yet. Thank god for small graces, because the man was usually so trigger happy it was a wonder he hadn’t shot his secretary. Mortally, Gabriel amended, recalling that one incident, and prepared himself for a shit show. He opened his mouth…

“You tremendous arsehole.”

“What…?”

“You think I don’t recognize you?” Okay, since that was out of the way… “Reaper.”

Gabriel groaned. Of course, he wasn’t usually that dense, but Jack definitely had his moments.

“Listen…”

“No, you listen, you son of a bitch, I should kill you right now, Gabe, because, shit, I tried contacting you, and you just flipped me off, so I think it isn’t you, but now you just waltz in and get to be all melodramatic?” Gabriel rolled his eyes. Okay, he could concede a point to Jack. He also kind of deserved that, he supposed, for calling him dense. “Besides, you look ridiculous, like an owl that flew into a garbage bag and can’t get out of it kind of ridiculous.”

“Says the man that had the flag vomit all over him.”

“At least my image if far from the confused fowl look you’re trying to pull off.”

“Owls aren’t… You tried contacting me?”

Jack lowered his rifle.

“Of course, you fucking drama queen. Hardly anyone else would run around spouting ‘darkness consumes’ and ‘death walks among you’ and other shit and not be you!” Gabriel moved the mask out of the way and pinched the bridge of his nose trying to stave off incoming headache. “Sure, it could be some random psycho, but since when you weren’t a fucking random psycho?”

“Pot, kettle, Jack. So, that job…”

“Yep. I wonder how many jobs you get in Ketchum, Idaho. And I’m not a random psycho, this is basic battle strategy!”

…shit. Because that was exactly why he turned down that job, because it looked like someone was fishing and waiting to see what hooks. On the other hand who could have known that… Being perfectly truthful, he turned the job down because it was in Ketchum and he didn’t feel like dealing with that then.

“For the umpteenth time, singing the oompa loompa song while charging the enemy is not a valid battle strategy, Jackie.”

“It worked,” Jack huffed with indignation.

“That one fucking time!” The headache was certainly staying. “Listen, Jack. Baby.”

“Fuck you too, Gabe.”

After a momentary staring contest they made it to a safehouse – if the safehouse in question was just past the closest door they found and kicked in and a definition of a safehouse used was generously broad and lax. ‘No one walked in on us’ was a pivotal feature.

They made it to a proper safehouse two hours later. Gabriel certainly wasn’t giddy. He might have been excited – never giddy.


	3. Chapter 3

“We’re going to Ketchum.”

Gabriel looked from the datapad to the man sprawled half on him, half on the bed.

“Why?”

“You damn well know why.”

“I don’t.”

Jack tilted his head and there was that wicked crazy shiteating grin on his lips that always preceded the shit no one wanted to hear, ever. It usually involved a grievous bodily injury.

“We are getting divorced.”

Well, fuck. He should have expected something like that, eventually. It was his fault, after all. No question about that.

“Why?”

“Because sure as hell I’m not staying married to one fucking Gabriel Reyes.” Jack lazily fished for something under the bed and dropped some papers on his lap. “Sign it.”

“Jackie, baby, really…?”

“Yes. Because I know you, arsehole, and you are going to ghost at the place, so, now, sign it.” Jack almost snarled it through his teeth. Gabriel, sighing lightly, took the pen and put his initials down.

“Happy now?”

“Very.” That grin was still there, and that definitely wasn’t the end. Gabriel briefly wondered if he should be afraid. Then acquiesced that there was no doubt, he should be very, very afraid.

*

“Really, there’s nothing in Ketchum. It’s a place that even the Devil forgot,” Sombra grumbled under her breath. “It’s like a ghost city.”

“Taking care of everything?”

“Reaper, there is almost nothing to take care of. Nada. What is here?” Gabriel chuckled at memories. “Dios mio, now I’m not sure I want to know.”

“We got married here.”

“Mierda! You married that thing?”

“In my defense, we were drunk.”

“Don’t they have laws against that?”

“They do. We had bigger guns.”

Yes, bigger guns. And confidence in the fact that every day could have been that last one even if they were monsters already then. Ana cheered them on and threw bullets instead of rice.

Gabriel couldn’t remember whose idea was that really.

“This town is truly cursed.” Sombra muttered.

*

Gabriel had to remind himself that the most important thing was Jack was having fun, because breaking into a city hall in a city with a population around two thousand was a bit surreal, even by his personal standards.

That didn’t stop the other man from gleefully opening – finally – the right cabinet and triumphantly shoving in the papers.

“And Just like that, John Morrison divorced one Gabriel Reyes next day due to his inability to consummate the marriage.” Jack could sometimes be such a petty little shit and Gabriel couldn’t help the grin threatening to split his face in two. Damn, he loved that man.

“If I remember correctly, baby, you did have a certain limp in the morning.”

“And you should read what you put your name to. That’s the version that’s in the records now.”

“What was that about the next day, Jackie, though?”

“I postdated it.”

“Making history again?”

“Always.” Jack answered with a fond tinge to his voice.

*

“So you are divorced now?” Sombra asked, and Gabriel heard the raised eyebrow.

“Seems like it.”

“Good riddance, I say.”

“Cease you prattle,” Jack hissed. “Now is our window, Selma leaves for her coffee and gossip run, she will be back in approximately thirty minutes.”

“El Diablo loco,” Sombra added, not really spiteful.

*

For Steve, that day took a turn for bizarre when into his little office – a repurposed utility closet really – walked, in succession, Soldier: 76, a known vigilante (a criminal or a patriot, depending on if you read the local newspaper or talked with senior citizens) and then Reaper, a known terrorist (murderer, traitor and all around scum, no matter whom you asked). Probably cosplayers but the pulse rifle looked awfully real.

 

“How… how can I help you?” Steve tried.

“We’d love a marriage license.” The vigilante answered.

“’Scuse me?”

“A marriage license.”

“A marriage license?”

“Yes.”

Steve slowly took out the right forms.

“And who…?”

“Soldier 76 and Reaper.”

Steve filled out proper fields on both forms, then cautiously slid them towards the pair.

“Please, sign…?”

Jack casually left little 76 on both copies and then looked at Gabriel.

“You too, prick.” Gabriel felt the sigh leaving his lips and put down a curly ‘Reaper’ at the bottom of both documents. Steve confirmed the deal with the city hall’s seal, not breaking the eye contact whole time. If you could speak about the eye contact with a masked man. Jack folded a copy and put it in one of his pockets. “Honeymoon now. Find me something to blow up.”

Gabriel looked hard at the clerk and materialized one of his shotguns. He lightly tapped the muzzle on the desk.

“I don’t think I need to illustrate what will happen if anything, by any chance, gets out of this room?” To strengthen the point he shadowed to the door, following Jack.

Steve gulped. The certificate ended in the lowest drawer of his desk, just by the postcards from his ex-wife.

*

“And you remarried him?”

“Of course.”

“Idiota!”

“But a happy one. What can we blow up around here?”

“Twenty clicks north Brujas have a hideout,” Sombra grumbled.


	4. Chapter 4

He was just about to fall asleep when his comm flashed to life with the most annoying beep he ever heard in his life. Gabriel brought it up, ready to cuss whoever was on the other side, but as soon as it came on, he was at a disadvantage.

“Gabe, what did you do to the gorilla?” Jack sounded downright irritated.

“What do you mean ‘what did I do to the gorilla’?” Gabriel grumbled under his breath. They had gone over the details earlier.

“He initiated a fucking recall.”

“Oh, he did?”

Jack fell silent on the other side.

“You bastard, you counted on it, didn’t you?”

“Maybe?” Gabriel yawned, scratching his nose sleepily. Truth be told, he made sure to grate Winston as much as he could to provoke him. That way Jack would feel compelled to join in, and with people covering his back he was certainly going to be safer than on his own, that crazy son of a bitch.

“You really think you’re getting rid of me that easy?”

“Jackie, what are you going about?” The best course of action was to deny anything and everything and Gabriel smiled a satisfied smile of a man that got his job done.

“I can see that fucking grin on your face.”

“…What?”

“At least cover you windows, some safehouse this is.” Gabriel stood up alarmed and looked. Right. Jack was looking right back at him out of the condemned building on the other side of the street.

“Really, Jackie?”

“Really, Gabe?” Jack parroted him, purely out of spite, and leaned as far out of the empty window frame as he could, now screaming at him. “Do you have any idea what the fuck have you done, you fucking high functioning psychopath?”

Oh. Jack was intent on making a scene, which was far from desirable at the moment. Gabriel decided to put a stop to that, but he did not expect getting punched just as he finished reforming behind the man. That hurt. Like a bitch.

“If they fucking cluster together they are going to be fucking sitting ducks, you moron!”

“Inside voice, Jackie, please.” Gabriel groaned from the floor.

“Don’t you fucking inside voice me! They are going to get themselves killed, they don’t have any experience in running covert ops! And Winston? He has no idea about leadership!” Jack was walking circles around him and Gabriel made sure his smile didn’t show now, because that was strike-commander talking. One crazy, angry and agitated strike-commander. “And the comms are absolutely jammed with Tracer chatting up Angela and Genji, of all people, and do they think they are safe? They are not safe, the codes are out to grab for anyone that cares enough, and there are people that will care!”

“So, they will change the codes, baby.” Gabriel propped up on one elbow and tried to look a bit not really concerned. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about!?“ Gabriel evaded a kick ghosting to the wall. This one, he was expecting. “They are not going to change those because that’s inconvenient!”

“So just give them the idea,” he did manage to sound exasperated.

“Oh right, you bloody arsehole, you think I’m going to walk in there and say hi, I’m you late commander, fuckers, listen to me? Oh, no, this is not going to work!” Jack threw his hands into the air dramatically.

“Jackie, baby, if you are that agonized about it all, why don’t you go as Soldier.” The sudden stop was certainly a point for him, and Gabriel internally high-fived himself, and then patted himself on the back, just for a good measure. “We will find you some old comm unit and credentials.”

Said comm unit and Overwatch credentials were safely sitting in his bag for days now.

Jack pursed his lips and stared hard. Suddenly, he cracked a smile.

“Are those… are those pajama bottoms with…?”

“Baby ducklings, yes.”

*

“He fell for it?” Sombra asked incredulously.

“Mhm.”

“And what you really mean to say is: ‘former Strike-Commander of Overwatch fell for the most thinly disguised bullshit story you didn’t really try to make a compelling argument for’?”

“Only if it’s coming from me, then yes.”

“Dios mio…”

*

Two weeks in, Jack stared down the pink monstrosity and the offering she held in her hands. He was willing to reconsider now. This was a bad idea. He was going to kick Gabe’s ass so hard it would reach a stable orbit.

“Is this some kind of a running gag?”

Pink monstrosity blinked and smiled, like a fucking shark that smelled blood.

“Why would you think that, Soldier?”

“It’s an ugly ass sweater with a print of you with ‘number one daughter’ above it.”

“So?”

Jack sighed and took it. Under the expectant gaze he put it on. He didn’t know that he started a fucking war.

*

Gabriel didn’t manage to stifle the giggle at the sight. At least something had a decency to explode in the background to hide it.

“You know what has to be done,” Jack spoke gravelly. “Make it look good.”

That sweater had to go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wifey is a slave driver. Sleeps.

“I hate you,” Jack conversationally quipped into his comm while shooting some Talon goon.

“Of course, Jackie. What do you want for dinner?”

“Definitely not chinese again. Thai?” Tracer zipped by, shouting something about the bloody cavalry.

“I could always cook.” Gabriel offered. “And sniper on your one.”

“Seen that one,” Jack reached his cover and fired off a volley of rockets. “Homemade doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Pick some wine up then, baby, Amelie recommended Bordeaux seventy.”

“I don’t trust her fucking recommendations. Last one tasted like fucking piss. Are you sure she’s not, like, trolling you, by now?” Gabriel chuckled, hearing the frequency switch. “Genji, sniper on your twelve, take him out.”

“You just have no taste, Jackie.”

“Right. I married you.”

“Twice, I might add.”

 “Biggest mistake of my life so far. See you at eight?” Jack vaulted the barrier and run, hardly breaking any sweat at all.

“Try to lose your tail this time, baby.”

“Prick.”

*

Jack winced at the pair of arms that circled his waist and tried to shake off the needy brit, but ended pulling her with each step.

“Are you going out, dad?”

“I would if you’d fucking let me!”

“Won’t you take me with you?” Tracer whined, trying to look adorable. It wasn’t working. “I’m your girl,” she pouted.

“Unlike you all social rejects, I do have a life outside of this!” Jack really tried keep his cool while he finally managed to dislodge her.

“Aw. But you love all your children, don’t you, dad?” She chipped from the ground.

“No. I despise you all. Don’t wait up, going to spend the night.”

When the doors closed behind him, D.Va thoughtfully put back her cup of tea.

“I propose we suspend our ongoing hostilities for the time being and cooperate, until at least we find out if we do indeed have a mum.”

“I concur!” Tracer giggled, now suddenly at the snacks and stuffing her face with popcorn.

“Weren’t we trying to have Mercy as our mum?” Lucio questioned lightly.

“Blimey! It wasn’t working, because he wasn’t willing to bang her, and he has so obviously a date now! He was wearing cologne!”

“Knowing Soldier it might provide for some delightful challenge,” Genji added. “Unless he will aim to kill.”

“Y’all, that was fun knowing you.”

*

“Target is on the move. I repeat, target is on the move. It’s entering “Chuck’s Deli”.”

“Do you have a visual on target’s cart?”

“No cart in sight, he’s going commando.”

Jack groaned. For fuck’s sake, they didn’t even change the frequency. What a bunch of morons.

“Anything noticeable?”

“Target stopped next to alcoholic beverages and seems to be considering,” Genji chirpily narrated. “And target’s choice of beverage is atrocious, that year’s awful.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, Bordeaux, twenty seventy.” Jack gritted his teeth, and tried to look for a moment like he was just reading the label, then put it back. He was right the whole time, Widowmaker was trolling them. Well, technically, she was trolling Gabe, but that was only a minor detail. Sangria it was. “Oh, good, he put it back, took the fruity drink.”

“That’s gay,” D.Va laughed.

He was going to kill them.

“We are on high alert, I repeat, high alert. Target picked up condoms.”

Thank god, radio sile…

“What size? This is mission critical information, what size?”

“The big ones.”

“Ooooh, tingly,” Tracer chipped in.

No, he was going to sic Gabe at them.

*

After having the bottle practically thrown at him while setting the plates, Gabriel decided to ask – because Jack was fuming, a rare sight. Usually he never got that far. Things died before Jack got to fuming.

“What happened, baby?”

“I’ve had half of the trip narrated on general channel by a bunch of fucking morons with a total iq of one horny teenager. I want you,” Jack looked him straight into the eyes, coldly, “to kill all of them.”

“Jackie.”

“Trust me. It will make the fucking world a fucking better place.”

“No, Jackie.”

“At least it will fucking stop them from trying to set me up with Angela! Angela, of all people!” Oh. That definitely changed the rules of the game. “By the way, the fact Amelie’s French doesn’t mean shit. I checked. She knows shit about wine.”

*

“Sombra.”

“Ay, grandpa?”

“I need a favor.”

“You always need a favor.”

“There’s maybe meeting your nemesis in play.”

“…Ay, color me intrigued, grumps.”

*

“You ass,” Jack breathed into his ear and Gabriel smiled wickedly. “What if someone walks by?”

“Then they will see the hottest ass around.”

“Should have… shot you,” Jack closed his eyes and bit his lip for a second, “when I had the chance…”

*

“You got that?”

“Madre de dios, I feel dirty and used.”

“Don’t be melodramatic, that’s my job.”

“Still. You owe me.”

“I don’t. I know you made a lot more pictures than three.”

“Mierda.”

“Mierda indeed.”

*

“And that is how you beat that boss with no damage!” D.Va intoned lightly, keeping an eye on the chat.

**DarkClone666:** oh god shady thanks for inviting me. she’s awesome~~  <3

**ShadowOne4Eva:** Told you, Hana is the best.

Oh, a donation from a new follower.

“And remember, I love you all,” D.Va smooched the screen.

**DarkClone666:** Shady you won’t believe what i caught this morning totally hot how do you whisper here totally nsfw

**Webbinattor4412:** ./whisp name command

**DarkClone666:** ./whisp ShadowOne4Eva check this photo dump I did of those two hotties making out today in the street  <LINK NSFW>

**ShadowOne4Eva:** …

**Webbinattor4412:** …

**DarkClone666:** shit

**DarkClone666:** don click everbody!

**PachinkoBot:** GAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

**DarkClone666:** dat on my priv and I have low data

**DarkClone666:** shit

**ShadowOne4Eva:** I love you anyways, pumpkin. And that be hot daddies.

**ShadowOne4Eva:** But seriously. You’re a moron.

D.Va noted the exchange and opened the link on the other screen, but load time was atrocious. Low data. Who had low data, like, ever?

“Now, we can advance past the Valley of Sunshine and into Crystal Caves,” she moved, so her breasts were closer to the camera, but kept an eye on the page. “Our next boss is…” Oh. She knew this shirt. And those pants. And those hair. And… “…uh, we are experiencing some technical difficulties… I think power is going out…”

Hana pulled the cord on the gaming rig.

“Dudes! We have a fucking emergency! Emergency meeting! NOW!”

*

D.Va paced.

“Exhibit A,” she pointed to the first holo display. Then the second. “Exhibit B and Exhibit C.”

“Oh, daddy’s getting some action,” Tracer inched closer, nose almost in the hologram. “Getting jiggy with… wait, a bloke? Issat a bloke?”

“How… How are you even… not sure?” Genji stared at her.

“I seen these Zarya workout vids, ye know? You can’t really tell unless ye see tits on screen.”

Hana pointed to a certain spot.

“This! This is so obviously a guy!”

“Or, you know, she keeps her purse safe,” Tracer tried. “Well, righty, that a bloke. Blimey, that’s why romantic dinner with Angie failed!”

“Or he just thinks y’all a pack of fucking loons,” Jesse didn’t know why was he dragged along to attend. This was not doing his sanity any favors.

“So Soldier is gay, or is just dating a man,” Genji shrugged. “That’s nothing to be alarmed of.”

“But we need a mommy to have a complete family unit,” D.Va stomped her foot.

“What about… Wait for it… Two dads?” Lucio snickered under his nose. Hana shot him an alarmed look. And then they all turned slowly to Jesse.

“Sorry, Cowboy, you need to take one for the team.”

“…what in the fucking fuck? Are you…” Jesse shuddered. Nope. He would kill him. He would definitely kill him. “…you are fucking serious…”

*

Every little bit of goodwill Jack felt evaporated when three pairs of eyes looked at him, all watery-like, and three sets of arms locked around his waist, just as he entered the room.

“What?”

Tracer sniffed, blinking.

“We love you all the same, dad!” She added. “No matter who you bang!”

“What she said.” Lucio and D.Va assured him.

“The fuck!?” Jack really missed his rifle at the moment. Or at least a grenade. Or a fucking aneurysm, to put him out of the misery.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone can't type in the right address to save their life.

Lucio was in the middle of jam session when an incoming message ping interrupted him. He opened the mail and stared, because, damn, the sight was intimidating. Was that some fan? But no, he didn’t even know he had such an account. Lucio squinted at the numbers and letters and dotted that down.

543udfzdg243mn32189hj20@not.overwatch.org.

“That porn any good?” D.Va casually asked from the doorframe.

*

Jack, half awake, decided, this one time, against smashing his communicator repeatedly on the bedside.

“What?” He growled.

“Did you get my mail, baby?”

“Oh, great, you’re behind those neoviagra adverts. Now fuck off.”

“You… didn’t?”

“…going back to sleep, arsehole.”

“Shit. It didn’t boun…”

Jack closed the line. For fuck’s sake, he needed his sleep.

*

“So, it just appeared and you don’t even know you had this account?” D.Va sat by Lucio, staring. “But, like, you can still send mail from it? Forward it to me!”

“Okay, but don’t your fans send you enough of those?”

“They do, but, damn, that one is a catch,” Hana murmured. “Usually they’re pasty white weenies. And it came in as anonymous@not.overwatch.org.”

“Oh, great!” Genji somehow found them. “Athena, old Anonymail still works?”

“I set up accounts for all the new agents.” The cyborg gleefully brought up his datapad.

“Athena, could you spamfilter those five thousand messages I have on mine? Leave pics.”

“Affirmative, agent Genji. Three hundred eighty five messages left.” There was a pause. “Three hundred eighty six messages now.”

*

“Jackie, did you get my mail now?”

“I’m promising you I’m going to shoot you on sight. All serious.”

“Baby, the mail.”

With a groan, Jack pulled up his visor.

“Nada. Fuck off.”

*

“Interesting,” Genji commented as he pulled up the same picture as the one that sat on Lucio’s desktop. “Someone is definitely feeling frisky tonight.”

“But why are they sending this to old overwatch mail? And using old overwatch mail?” Genji shook his head.

“There are still plenty of old agents around. If the mail works, why wouldn’t they use it? Which brings me to a point,” he leaned out of doorframe, into the corridor. “McCree, I didn’t really need a whole culinary blog of yours on my mail!”

“I sent only one or two a week. Not my fault you never checked your mail!” Came from the kitchen.

*

“Jackie…”

“Oh my fucking god, Gabe, what, what do you want, I’m fucking trying to sleep!”

“The mail.”

Jack fumbled with controls.

“Great. A picture of a dick from a dick. What I always wanted for Christmas.”

“Finally went through. Could you just check where it went the first two times, Jackie?”

Jack looked over the attached addresses.

“Not the first time you sent one of those to Shimada. Now fuck off.”

“Not the first time?”

“He was forwarding all of those to me. Fuck off for real.” Jack put the comm under the mattress after making damn sure it was off.

*

“Which, incidentally, brings back the memories of the old times,” Genji emoted wiping off an imaginary tear of nostalgia from his visor, “when I used to get all those sexy pictures meant for Strike-Commander. Ah, good memories.”

“No, those were traumatic, when you realized, who…” Jesse walked in with a half-eaten sandwich in his hand and observed the image on the big screen. “Oh, god, it begins again.”

D.Va put her hands together.

“So, what you’re actually saying, you had Anonymail set up in old times, and used it to send nudes?”

“Basically.”

*

“Sombra.”

“This is me.”

“I’ve sent something to a wrong account on Athena’s Anonymail server and need it removed fast.”

“Wow. You tried to sext your boyfriend and typed in wrong address?”

“…Yes. Get rid of it.”

“Ay, gramps, no way, this is too funny.”

“Sombra!”

*

“I know that dick!” Tracer blinked to the screen. “The legend is still alive!”

Jesse almost choked on his sandwich.

“If anyone needs me, I’m at a firing range, you loons.”

“What do you mean, the legend?” Both Lucio and D.Va inquired at the same time.

“Blimey, that guy was, like, flashing entire Overwatch, like never got the rite address, you know, bloody spectacular, if you think! And we know that, because there were spicy conversations included! And we searched.”

“And you failed, because trying to stalk people in bathrooms never works out,” Genji laughed at the memories. “At Blackwatch, we used blackmail, espionage and honeypot missions.”

“Oooh, so you know who dat?”

“That’s classified information way above your paygrade.”

“Imma not getting paid, you’re getting paid?” Lena seemed crushed.

“Not that I know of, but even if I knew who that guy is, I wouldn’t tell you.” Genji shuffled through his other mail.

“Not fair,” Tracer loaded her phone.”Trade you for Strike-Commander’s? It was confirmed!”

“Nope.”

“Cowboy’s?”

“There’s almost no living soul that hadn’t seen his.”

“Excuse me,” Lucio interjected, “but what is this about trading?”

“Oh, blimey, you bloody dun know? Cos if one got a nude they dinna want, they put it on our wall. And there were a bloody lot of those.”

*

Jack almost choked on his coffee when he faced the common room. At least something good sometimes happened. He made the call.

“Yes, Jackie? A bit busy here.” There were shots fired in the background.

“I just wanted to congratulate, Gabe, on being the first entry on a new Dick Pic Wall of Shame.”

“Shit.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Museum mission. I know I'm bad about those comments, I love you all, I'll get around to them. Thank you all very much :)

Jack was telepathic, apparently – which wouldn’t really surprise him, because there was very little that could surprise him about the man – and called just as Gabriel was to open the channel anyway.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” every word was punctuated.

“Great, Jackie, I’m really trying not to kill anyone, but those losers on your team are making it hard.” Hindsight was twenty-twenty. He **heard** the room getting colder on the other side. “I tried calling him monkey again, didn’t work, any ideas?”

“Bandolier on left.” Yep. Freezing. Doghouse it was. “You have glasses in the first one.”

With situation being as it was, it couldn’t get worse.

“And what am I supposed to do with them, put them on!?”

“Oh, I don’t know, break them while he looks.”

Gabriel didn’t really want to admit the plan sounded no less idiotic than the oompa loompa one, but if Jack really went out of his way to pack him glasses, he could at least humor him. He let them slip and then stepped down hard.

To his surprise, Winston jumped him with murder in his beady monkey eyes. It was painful.

 “…thanks, Jackie… worked. I think he broke… half of my bones.”

“Good. And you teamed up with two purple smurfs,” Jack shot back.

“I might be purple, but no smurf,” Sombra interjected. He should have a talk with her, about some goddamned privacy and maybe boundaries.

“I’m really hurting here…”

“Oh, I’m all sympathetic. Have the smurf kiss it all better.”

“Jackie…”

“I’ve seen your face in her boobs.”

“Oh, drama. Good I have popcorn.”

“Baby, we were escaping… on her grapple… because your plan worked?”

“Then her ‘grapple’ can heal you.” Jack muted them.

“So, anciano, getting divorced again?”

“If I didn’t hurt so much… I’d go there and shoot you.”

“Spooky.”

*

Tracer sat on the couch, strangely stiff, her head held immobile by a neck brace.

“And then that bloody wanker, he, like, jumps, all cartoony, on poor Winston’s glasses, and, woo! Winston goes punchy!” She awkwardly tried to represent throwing said punch. “And then bam, comes the slammo!”

Genji just nodded along, pretending to pay attention while he surfed the news on his datapad.

“And what the fuck happened to you?” Jack stared at Lena. There was nothing in the feed that could explain the brace.

“Whiplash, dad. Angie says I havta.”

“You… You are all pathetic. You had the smurf and the edge owl kicking your ass!”

“I was providing moral support,” Genji corrected, typing. “Wow. Smurf. Ancient. But figures for certain old men.”

Jack just opened his mouth, but then thought better of it and stomped away.

“I got a question, what the bloody fick is an edge owl and a smurf?” Lena waved at Genji.

“Well, this was children’s show from twentieth century,” he showed her datapad. “This is a smurf.”

“Oh, it’s all cutey and stuffs. And the edge owl?”

“I suppose Soldier was referring to Reaper.”

“And why he done looking like he on his rag?”

“Pardon?”

“He on a bitch time?”

“I… don’t…?”

“His flowers abloomin’?”

“What?”

“The cap is home, the red flag flying, ridin’ the cotton pony?”

“Is this some sex thing I don’t know about?”

“Of course, it goes in your privates!” Lena scrunched her face, exasperated.

“I’m lost.”

“Shark week?”

It clicked.

“No, Lena, I don’t think men can… wait,” Genji stood up and concentrated, looking through the window. “Did he just grab a whole case of grenades?”

“That he did.”

“I just remembered I have something important to do, far away from here.”

*

When the biotic generator started working, Gabriel groaned with relief and then angled his head to look at Jack.

“Thanks, baby.”

“Oh, don’t mention it,” the slightly cocky inclination in Jack’s voice made him anxious even as fingers threaded through his hair.

“Jackie?”

“I booby trapped the flat. Have fun later, Gabe.”

“You’re such a petty little fucker, Jackie.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	8. Xmas Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waifu: 'where’s my crack? no xmas special? it should be a fluffy xmas special'. Plot and feels happened along the way.

**_Before Zurich_ **

Getting Jack out of the office in recent years was always a challenge in itself.

“No. Fuck off. I need to finish…” The blonde stared at a notification. “What the hell?”

“Miranda’s done with it.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“Then there’s the quarterly report...”

“She will do it with Geoff tomorrow. You’re out of excuses, Jackie.”

“Gabe,” the voice had a warning edge to it. Gabriel ignored it with years of experience.

“Besides, I want to show you something, baby.”

*

Jack was never big on holidays, which Gabriel understood one way or another, not really wanting to force the festivities on the other man. He did that once, ended with a broken nose, not his, but the poor wretch that tried to get the blonde under the mistletoe deserved it. Really did. They both sometimes had an explosive temperament. Gabriel felt one hundred percent justified.

And that’s how they found themselves on a platform overlooking partially frozen Lake Zurich, Jack holding hot coffee, soft snow on his blond hair and a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Okay, you are excused, commander, but fuck you anyways.”

“That’s later, Jackie,” Gabriel took a sip of his own drink.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” Jack rolled his eyes.

“I was thinking about all this shit. I’m not sure it would even work, but I can’t really see other way, not with the whole fucking leak.”

“I know, baby.” They lost their handlers along the way. At least one of them permanently, and Gabriel wasn’t going to cry about that. “We can talk about it later, I got us whole house,” he gestured with his head towards the cottage. He made certain it was clean.

“How thoughtful of you, mister Reyes-Morrison.”

“Can’t prove anything, Jackie,” Gabriel chuckled.

“Can’t I? I still have a copy hidden in a safe place, you fucker.”

“About that, the code was ‘ifuckinghatehimforever76thatarsehole’.” Jack’s eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t!”

“I did, but on the subject, Jackie,” Gabriel slid a small box over the table. “It’s better not to leave anything for anyone to dig in, don’t you think, baby?”

Jack considered the box and then opened it, looking at a simple silver ring inside, just a band of metal. A smile appeared on his face again.

“You decided then?” The blonde took out the ring and slipped it on his finger. Gabriel leaned over the table and tugged him into a light kiss.

“In the blaze of glory, together, right, baby?”

“In the fucking blaze of the fucking glory, Gabe,” Jack answered, that crazy grin on his face, and Gabriel remembered yet again why he loved him that much.

*

**_After Zurich_ **

It felt nostalgic. The same place, the same date, and one of them missing. Forever. Jack’s hand touched his breast, where under the coat on a simple chain hung the tags and the ring.

“In the fucking blaze of glory, Gabe,” he sighed. “You’re still an arsehole, to leave everything to me.”

Jack moved his hand over the table, and then went back to the cottage. A single silenced shot, easy to mistake for a firework going off, rung out. Another one down.

The snow soon covered a simple ‘love you’ scribbled with a finger.


	9. New Year's Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waifu again. <3

It occurred to Gabriel, just as he almost tripped on a mine, which – honestly, thank gods or whatever listened at the moment – decided to be delayed, that this was New Year’s Eve. And the pain, as he hunkered down to the cover by Jack’s side, made him consider something else.

“Flatfooted moron,” the blonde leaned out, spraying the area generously with pulse shots, and then clicked his tongue with appreciation as his targets miraculously seemed to self-combust. “You alive?”

“Yeah, yeah. Alive,” Gabriel nodded absentmindedly while wiping a trickle of blood from his temple. Shrapnel. Alive. Maybe going into shock as he mulled over his thoughts. Jack raised an elegant eyebrow.

“How many fingers am I…?” Something exploded just left to them.

“Two, Jackie, and we should,” and to the right again. “We really should move now.”

Jack grinned and, fuck, didn’t it make him look like a deranged idiot, but Gabriel still stuck with his own opinion it was the most brilliant thing he had ever seen, even under all that soot and grime, and even if Ana always kept insisting it was actually fucking scary as fuck, and had she already mentioned it reminded her of some fucking monster hiding under the bed ready to snatch your ankle with a tentacle? And even if it made kids cry, more than once.

“Don’t bleed out on me, Gabe,” the blonde rolled his eyes. “We got it almost secured. Ana, we’ll need a medvac, because the melodramatic idiot deigned to fucking explode himself on a fucking mine.”

“Go left, ten, should have you covered, brat, and be nice. You’re both melodramatic fucks.”

“Oh, mommy said a cuss!” Jack laughed while waiting for Gabriel to reload his shotguns, and then laid suppressive fire for the other man to run forward.

“I’m not melodramatic,” Gabriel protested jumping over some smoking wreckage.

“Ten. Thirty. Eleven. Ten. Cover.” Ana guided him over the comm. “And you sure as fuck are.”

“My turn, mommy.”

“Go.”

*

It was half an hour later, when the last pockets of the resistance were eliminated. Twenty minutes past midnight local time. And Gabriel was bleeding like a stuck pig. Fucking shrapnel.

“Jackie, baby?” He groaned. The blonde was just setting up a biotic emitter.

“Yeah?” Jack prodded at the deep cut on his own forearm with a certain look of morbid and careless fascination in his eyes. Gabriel snickered and grabbed lapels of the blonde’s coat, pulling him for a kiss. A very satisfying kiss that came with surviving another day, another skirmish, and, damn, did the soft moan that came from Jack help cement his resolve.

“We should get married.”

Blue eyes blinked at him in confusion. Then came the utter horror.

“Ana, what’s the status on medvac? Because the fucker’s delirious and just proposed,” Jack sounded a little bit concerned.

“En route. Told them to hurry. Try to keep him lucid.”

“I did not propose, just said we should marry, Jackie.” Gabriel protested, letting the blonde check frantically his injuries.

“Must be something internal, he’s delusional!”

Well, he tried at least, Gabriel mused, trying not to yelp when fingers probed the point of entry. But the panicked concern on Jack’s face even as they left in transport was worth the failure, in a way.

*

Three days later, they had a moment to celebrate. It took copious amounts of alcohol for some of them. Torbjörn was sitting in a corner, slowly caressing a photograph he always had on him. Ana was lying on Reinhardt’s lap, with her legs up his chest and heels hooked on the man’s shoulder, and the German was lost in one of his stories told half in English, half in his native tongue. Liao was somewhere else, for which they were all at least a little bit thankful.

Gabriel had a couch to himself, and his arms full of drunkenly giggling Jack, who, in turn, had his hand very not inconspicuously down his pants. Which was a moment as good as any other, he decided nipping at the blonde’s neck.

“Baby, Jackie, marry me.”

“Wha…?” The blonde slurred slightly, trying to focus his eyes on him. “I can’t fucking… believe you still going on… that’s the fucking worst idea you ever had, arse…”

“It’s terrible,” Gabriel agreed. “But marry me.”

After a brief consideration Jack scrunched his eyes.

“Okay, you fucker. It’s on you.” Great, now what was left was to remind him later and… A hand to his face stopped this train of thought when Jack shoved him back. “Dudes! We’re getting fucking married!”

There was no reaction.

“Jackie…” Another shove and the hand was now dead set on suffocating him.

“I said we’re fucking… getting married, right fucking now, you fuckers!”

“You’re drunk, brat,” Ana interjected from her Reinhardt perch.

“I fucking know it, and I’m fucking getting married right now!”

That escalated quickly, Gabriel mused.

*

It miraculously took only half an hour before they were inside the city hall, cloaks, jackets and all the rest on, and guns at the ready (more out of a habit than anything else), standing before scared shitless clerk in his dressing-gown. No one would fault him, not when a motley group of heavily armed drunk soldiers banged in the dead of the night on his doors, all flushed and excited.

Torbjörn was in the back, crying, and mumbling something about his ‘little Lutefisk’, whatever the fuck that was. Reinhardt was crying, but he said he always did at weddings. Ana wore that sly smirk she almost always did.

With a touch of the stamp it was done, and they were Reyes-Morrison. Gabriel pulled Jack for another kiss and Ana threw bullets in the air instead of rice.

“My fucking eye!” Jack howled.

*

In retrospect, it was the best drunken sex he’s ever had.

*

It was still the best drunken sex he’s ever had when, with the morning light breaking, a vicious kick to his back threw him out of the bed and onto the cold floor. The blond peered at him, one eye covered by gauze.

“Jackie?” Gabriel groaned.

“Bring the fucking coffee.” Jack grumbled. Everything was back to normal.

*

“So, mister Reyes, mister Morrison…” The official looked briefly at Ana who chose that exact moment to snicker loudly. “As I was saying, mister Reyes, Morrison…” Ana flat out laughed. Jack huffed indignantly and grabbed the folder.

“Yes, we get it, now fuck off, we all learned how to fucking read.” The blonde stormed out. Gabriel met the baffled gaze stoically.

*

Liao sat by, a little too close for the comfort.

“So what’s up with you and the blond menace? He seems more hostile than usually,” Gabriel almost snorted at the hand on his shoulder. Liao never got a clue. Maybe he would, this time.

“We’re…”

“Get the fuck away,” Jack zeroed on them and forced himself between Liao and Gabriel, giving the first one a look that would eviscerate on a spot, if looks could kill. Then the gaze shifted to him. “And you, don’t think you can get away, I will fucking ruin you, you arsehole. I have a copy.”

“I know you will, Jackie,” Gabriel smiled fondly, kissing him lightly. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Liao made a gagging sound in the background and thankfully fucked off.

*

In the end, no one ever connected the old sheet of paper resting in Ketchum City Hall archives with Strike-Commander Jack Morrison and Commander Gabriel Reyes.


	10. Volskaya Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Volskaya Infiltration. The ugly-ass sweater saga continues. Sombra is a troll. <3 for waifu :3

“I’m in position,” Jack informed, his voice slightly annoyed. “My ass is freezing and I’d very much like to take the smurf out.”

“I’m all for it, you have a go, old man,” Sombra agreed.

“Jackie, no. No. We need her.”

“Close the door on him.”

“Ay.”

“Sombra!”

It was a bit unnerving, how Jack and Sombra found a common ground in wanting to get rid of Amelie.

“The turrets are down.”

“Yes, the smurf is going down.”

“Jackie.” Gabirel groaned.

“The smurf is ready to take the shot. Better safe than sorry.”

“And the alarm is on, right on cue. Anciano, shoot.”

“No, we are not shooting Widowmaker!”

*

Winston tweaked the code.

“Athena, run it.”

“Of course, Winston.” The map blinked with several bright points. Most of them were in one place, but one…

“What is Soldier doing in Siberia?”

“He left yesterday, citing ‘personal business, fuck off’.”

“Huh.”

“And then, citing again, ‘I’ll fucking bury the smurf’.”

*

“She will sit on the perimeter. That means no shooting Amelie, Jackie.”

“My finger might just slip.”

“And it’s freezing outside, it would be only natural for an old man to shake more than… oh, dios mio, I’m dying here!”

“It was funny,” Gabriel had to admit.

“Estupido, he just… he just flailed and walked into the mech face first.”

“Really, Gabe?”

“The mudak.”

“You mean the ruskie not the edge owl?”

“Si.”

“Stop chatting, and pay some attention to what’s going on. You’re up, Sombra.” Gabriel groaned. There went his ribs. Again.

“Yes, yes, send the gran chica to do what two old men are apparently too old to do by themselves,” Sombra laughed.

“It’s called playing it believable.”

*

“Ah, Genji,” Winston waved him over and the cyborg raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, do you know why Soldier travelled to Siberia?”

“Really?” Genji considered hard between telling truth, lying and running. Thankfully, he faked obliviousness really well. More so with a visor over his face. “He did say he had someone… I mean, something to take care of. Personal business.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“By the way, I need to request some personal leave effective immediately. I have to visit my brother. I bought the tickets already.” Running it was. “I need to pack up.”

*

“Grumps, could you take care of the mechs? They are shooting at me,” Sombra managed a proper scandalized voice. “Me!”

“One very dead mech coming up. Status?”

“Are we sure this is military plant not some fetish place? I’m going up in a giant fist.”

Jack snorted over the comm.

“No, Jackie, don’t you da…”

“Falcon punch!”

“Bro fist, anciano!”

Gabriel fought the urge to just let himself be stomped by the machine into unconsciousness. They were bonding. Why was this his life now?

*

“You going somewhere?” Jesse gazed inquisitively at Genji, noticing how, at the moment, the cyborg wore an oversized pair of pants and a hoodie, not mentioning the backpack and the golf club bag. It was highly unusual.

“Winston. He’s asking Questions,” somehow, Genji managed to articulate the capital letter. “If anybody needs me, I’m in Hanamura visiting brother dearest.”

“Shit. The homicidal one?”

“The one and only,” Genji nodded.

“The one that looks like a very pissed off toad someone stepped on?”

“The very one. I have a plane to catch,” the cyborg checked around the corner. “Remember, if you want to live, keep your mouth shut.”

“Dude, seriously, I’m not that stupid. He would kill us. And then kill us again.”

“My point exactly.”

“Dude,” Jesse understood that nagging feeling, “are those my pants?”

“Finders-keepers. Ja ne!”

*

“Ah, you have no idea what it took for me to make this meeting happen!” Sombra chuckled.

“Apparently, since it involves having me sit in the fucking snow, freeze my fingers off, and keep an eye on the smurf, and I think she just moved…”

“No, Jackie, she’s just breathing, no shooting! Sombra, status!”

Sombra switched off her communicator. Let them bicker on their own.

“Did… did she just fucking mute me? She did fucking mute me!”

“Breathe, baby.”

“I’m not fucking going to breathe now!”

*

“Hana, Lucio,” Winston hovered over them while they battled their Pokemon, ”do you know why Soldier left for Siberia?”

“Nope! But he’s not going to get cold, I gave him new sweater!” The gorilla shuddered. If it was anything like the one before it, it was a pure unadulterated cruelty.

“And he got a shirt and warm socks from me!” Lucio added.

*

“Mission failed. Target escaped.”

“Get back to the ship,” Gabriel really tried to bring out the negative feelings – hard when everything went according to the plan. Maybe except those ribs, but he was getting used to it.

“My ass is a fucking ice cube.”

“That means it retains its natural shape, abuelo,” Sombra giggled. “You go have fun, both of you, I’ll keep arana some company.”

“Fuck you, I could be your fucking father!” Jack sneered, getting up.

“That’s the point, anciano.”

Well, shit. If the muffled screaming was any clue, at that very moment they were out of things for Jack to blow up.

*

“Lena, do you have a second?”

“Wat’cha need, Winston, luv?” Tracer blinked in, mouth full of chips.

“Do you, by any chance, know why Soldier is in Siberia?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one, luv! He’s blowing up ruskies!”

Winston stared at her.

“You know, the pinkos, the reds?”

“Could you…?”

“Ivans?” Lena shrugged. “Bloody Russian communist menace?”

“Ah. Thank you.”

*

It took two hours, a broken lamp and a tv thrown through a thankfully open window to talk Jack down from fuming this time.

Last time he fumed that long, he took out entire terrorist operation single-handedly with half of the operatives throwing away their guns and surrendering on the spot. Seeing your co-worker bludgeoned with a table – a table of all things – repeatedly, by a man screaming obscenities, tended to do that to people.

Not that Gabriel complained – it made for a captivating sight – he just had to make sure he kept out of the blonde’s reach. Which didn’t help much when Jack decided to throw the damn table with force enough to make it embed in the wall. He made sure none of it made into the official report, no matter how amusing the whole affair was.

It certainly did put a fear of Jack into Jesse, who muttered later that if that was how Overwatch operated, he was thankful to be Blackwatch.

But now, he had his lap full of a wickedly grinning man, and damn, did he love that toothy smile.

“What the fuck are you thinking about?” Jack wriggled , the movement eliciting a gasp from both of them.

“The table incident,” Gabriel chuckled, returning his mouth to the pale neck. “The one in Madrid.”

“He fucking deserved it, and you, ah, fucking know it,” Jack moved again, biting his lip. “Fucker shot you…”

“He grazed my vest, Jackie.”

“My point, mhm, stands. He might have hit,” Jack mused, rolling his hips lightly.

“Fuck, Jackie, you’re…” And they both turned to the side with their pistols trained on target when the doors creaked. Sombra walked briskly to the lump of forgotten clothing, not paying them any attention.

Gabriel hemmed lightly as she rummaged through the pile and then pulled out the pink sweater with D.Va’s portrait and neat stitched ‘beloved daughter’ below.

Jack was staring with a look of deep traumatized confusion, and Gabriel did a double take when she put the article to her face and inhaled deeply.

“Oh, don’t mind me, abuelos, don’t stop on my account,” she gave them a twirl with fingers and turned on her heels.

“…what the fuck was that…?”

“I have no… I might have some idea,” Gabriel had to admit, but, damn, that woman, she had absolutely no shame whatsoever. They really, really had to have that talk about boundaries, he thought, as Jack rolled off of him to the side of the bed.

“…definitely not in the mood anymore.”

“Neither.”

“I need a fucking drink.”

“There’s a bar downstairs.”

“Do they serve bleach?”

“If they don’t, I’ll make them, Jackie.”

*

“Oh, no, you lost it again,” Hana did look heartbroken. But then, she was good at looking heartbroken. “What happened this time, dad?”

Jack tensed for a second. And then answered with a voice of a man that had seen the horrors of war.

“Sombra took it. Don’t even fucking ask.”


	11. Old Soldiers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old Soldiers. There might be even some plot somewhere. Sombra and Jack are definitely bonding. The Smurf question is VERY important.

It was all peachy and dandy until the goon decided to pull a gun on Jack. Jack didn’t like having guns pointed at him.

“Grumps, uh…” Sombra switched to a private-private channel. “Shouldn’t we, like, call an ambulance, or something?”

“Anonymous tip-off. Done five minutes ago.”

“But… he just went up to him five minutes ago?”

“Yes.”

“Madre de Dios, does that happen that often!?”

“Have I ever told you about the Paris Table Incident? That one got recorded.”

“You’re an evil, evil man. I know I shouldn’t, I will regret it, but I’m going to look that up right now.”

*

“It was like watching a beautiful hyper-train wreck. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t take my eyes off. It wasn’t a publicity stunt?”

“No.”

“That was real?”

“We tried to pull it off the web.”

“Whoever titled it ‘Five easy steps to disable bastion unit with a tennis table’ was a goddamn marketing genius.”

“Yep.”

“Why the tennis table though?”

“It was on hand.”

“And, grumps, you willingly share the bed with that thing? Respeto.”

“As long as I don’t cheat on him.”

“Good abuelo doesn’t know about your boyfriends then.”

“…shit.” To be perfectly frank, Gabriel admitted, he had forgotten that little detail himself.

“Are you both done fucking around? I’m fucking boiling,” pinged at the other private channel.

*

Keeping Hakim occupied enough to not notice a human bulldozer going through his ‘security’ wasn’t that hard. Keeping himself from snorting out loud when Sombra sent him a picture of an almost literal pile of bodies of said ‘security’ was a challenge.

“Well…” And that poor bastard who just lost half of his teeth on the other side of the wall. “Keep at it. Once you set a trap you never know what will fall into it.”

“Hilarious,” Jack grumbled on the line. “Your plans fucking suck. Where the fuck are you?”

“Of which we have a perfect example just now,” Gabriel rolled his eyes behind his mask and when Sombra finally let the feed go through he ghosted away to the sound of Hakim’s indignant squawk at the sight of his ‘security’ properly disposed of. Or virtually annihilated. It was time to start the show. “Right here, Jack.”

The following scream of pain was indisputably deserving of an Oscar, Gabriel thought.

*

Winston harrumphed lightly at the sight of D.Va and Tracer dancing to the song Lucio was in the act of composing at the moment. Was that Beethoven he heard in the background?

“Winston, luv, watcha want?” Lena giggled at him, waving her hands erratically in the air.

“Oh, yes, did Soldier tell you anything about, hm, a trip to Egypt?”

“Sure, luv, he’s getting his mum.”

Winston’s left eyelid twitched nervously when he thought about exactly what potential female specimen could have spawned the man in question. Sure, he was capable and useful, certainly resourceful and knowledgeable about combat operations, but the temper. God, the temper and the mouth on him…

“His mother?”

“To be exact,” Lucio nodded, “he was more like ‘mommy won’t be hiding for much longer now’.”

“Our own grandma, imagine that!” Hana high-fived Tracer.

“Holy shit,” Jesse let the camera fall to the couch beside him, eyes wide, meeting the questioning gaze of the other three people and one genetically modified gorilla in the room. “I just, uh, remembered, I was supposed to buy Genji the return ticket. Be right back!”

*

“You motherfucking arsehole! You fucking shot me!”

“Jackie, baby, we agreed on that,” Gabriel had a creeping feeling of suspicion tugging at the back of his mind that maybe, maybe, he, unbeknownst to himself, did manage to botch something up.

“We fucking agreed on the fucking lower back!”

“That’s not much of a difference, baby?”

“Gabriel,” it was the full name now and the warning edge he hadn’t heard since forever in Jack’s voice. He… was definitely in serious trouble here. “I’m not fucking wearing fucking armor on my ass!”

Shit. There it was.

“Jackie…”

“Well, you should, anciano,” Sombra yet again invaded the ‘private’ channel, she was worse than Pharaoh’s ants. “To protect your assets.”

The deafening silence on the other side of the comm could have only meant one of the two outcomes possible – and neither of them was any good, honestly. Gabriel readied for screams, or to duck behind a cover under a barrage of pulse fire because, if the universe worked properly – and it usually did regarding its capability to screw him over – Jack was somewhere with a good vantage point. And just behind Gabriel’s position.

“You know, that was actually pretty good, chica,” Jack chuckled.

“I know, I was sitting on it for days, abuelo.”

Well, Gabriel certainly had not expected that, and neither had he expected the silent dread welling up in his gut at the sudden realization that if they teamed up… No, he was better off not even trying to think about it.

*

“Genji, code red, y’all not going to fucking believe it!” Jesse almost screamed into the phone while pacing on the roof of the watchpoint.

“I’m not believing it already because I’m looking right now at a pair of Smurf tits.”

Jesse stopped and reconsidered.

“What?”

“Smurf tits.”

“…why?” This was a question Jesse was almost afraid to ask.

“Check your mail, I forwarded it.”

“…dude, answer me first, are these Smurf tits of the Papa Smurf banging Smurfette variety, or just regular Smurf tits variety?” Jesse formulated his words with some modicum of care while propping the phone on his arm and navigating the datapad’s menu awkwardly.

“Regular Smurf tits variety,” Genji confirmed with the accompaniment of a baby crying in the background.

“Huh. I got two.” Few fast swipes and Jesse had to sit down. “Okay, one, what’s with the ankle biter? Two, did she really write out the accent? Three, why did she mailbomb our server?”

“One, I’m flying coach, because someone forgot to buy me a ticket. Two, yes. Three, heck if I know.”

“Dude, I’m sorry, my condolences. I’m coming to pick ya up.”

*

Kicking in doors was never regarded as a subtle method of an entrance to a safehouse, but, considering, Gabriel had nothing in particular against it at that very moment, not when the whole 'lower back' dispute just blew over miraculously. The privacy thing notwithstanding, he should thank Sombra for her horrific puns she and Jack seemed to bond over - even if the very idea of that happening made his skin crawl uncomfortably. Maybe another of those atrocious sweaters would do, and getting Jack out of one shouldn't be a problem at all.

“I'm taking it out of your fucking ass,” the man in question mumbled in between the kisses and generous groping.

“Of course, Jackie,” Gabriel went for another kiss when a strange whistling sound caught his attention, along with a pinprick in his neck. He swatted at it dislodging something metallic.

“Haven't I told you, boys, not to ever try to trick the trickster?”

Jack's eyes rolled back and he went down like a literal sack of bricks.

“...fuck,” Gabriel managed to mutter before he joined him on the floor.

*

Gabriel had to honestly admit he felt properly and thoroughly chastised for being an unreasonable melodramatic moron with no imagination whatsoever, and he couldn’t fault Ana for quietly announcing the whole list of reasons why she was so, so disappointed with both of them. The mention of her having to remove the buckshot by hand had him wincing, really.

But now, they sat with the tea slowly getting cold, mesmerized by the spectacle taking place on the opposite side of the table.

Said spectacle laid sprawled on the couch and giggled menacingly while slapping his own face. Gabriel was thankful for the nanite metabolism that got rid of the cocktail fast and painless.

“Remind me that if there ever is a choice between sedating him, and shooting this stupid head of his off, there is no choice.” Ana shuddered.

“Yeah. This is easily the second scariest thing I’ve seen in my life,” Gabriel agreed. Jack mumbled something while almost putting two fingers in his eye and drifted away into the realm of sleep, again.

“I’m afraid to ask what was actually the scariest one,” Ana took a sip.

“I…” Gabriel faltered, returning for a second to the gut-wrenching horror when… No, it was better to leave it in the past. “I’d rather not say,” he added sourly.

“I see,” Ana patted his arm calmly, sighing. “At least now you are both all right. More or less.”

“So, how did you figure it out?”

“Gabe,” she rolled her eye, “you’re both bad enough on your own, but together, you are two biggest dramatic fucks I’ve ever known in my life. ‘I know your every move before you even think it’? I might even feel a little bit insulted.”

“Fair point.” Gabriel almost dropped the cup when Jack chose this exact moment to jerk awake, laugh manically, and then roll off the couch and land with a loud thud on the floor. One pale hand slowly rose in the air.

“Papi…!” Jack whined from under the table.

*

“…and conzidering ze dating-zess-pool of Talon has ze collaborative iq of pond zcum…” Lucio suspended his dramatic reading of Widowmaker’s e-mail to wave at Jesse and Genji. “…I turn to you in ze hope of alleviating zis issue…”

“What the fuck y’all doing?”

“Cowboy, good you’re here,” Hana zeroed on Jesse, her smile putting most of the known species of shark to shame. “We’ve reached a group decision you are going to take one for the team. If she gets laid, maybe she’s going to be less of a bitch to deal with!”

“Are y’all fucking daft!? Genji?”

“Oh. No, you’re on your own, McCree,” the cyborg took a step back. “After all, you forgot to buy me the return ticket.”

“You’re going bowling Saturday night, luv, the lane’s booked!” Tracer gleefully declared while handing him reservation details.


	12. How Harry Met Sa... Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh. The Backstory. And Smurfs. They're a theme.

To say that Gabriel was utterly unimpressed with Jack Morrison upon their first meeting was an understatement. The man was big, blonde, blue-eyed, had well-pronounced cheekbones and a chin you could cut yourself on, and in general appeared as if he just walked out of White Power rally, or maybe even worse, stepped out of Wehrmacht propaganda where he had been used as an example of a perfect Aryan. His carefree cockiness also radiated the textbook case of jock, whose idea of a fun night out was cow tipping. And then, the blonde wasn’t even his type, he preferred them a bit shorter and quieter.

However, not unlike the Autobots, there was much more going under that hood than met the eye.

Yes, Gabriel Reyes was a nerd.

*

One of the first qualities that could be observed about Jack Morrison was his apparent death wish. No matter the circumstances, be it sparring, training, or war games, the man was like a rabid wolverine. Literally. Or a rabid honey badger because ratels were scary as shit on their own, but add to that rabies…

Which was many roundabout words to describe the fact that the blonde would take on someone twice his size without looking back, might die fighting his opponent, but, sure as hell, he was taking said opponent down with him. And then he would seemingly resurrect like in those documentaries, all with that demented toothy smile of his plastered on his bloodied lips. And Gabriel was not beyond appreciating that kind of dedication (or craziness).

Yes, Gabriel Reyes was a nerd who not only watched old cartoons – he relaxed with Animal Planet on.

*

Another characteristic of Jack Morrison was not letting any kind of bullshit fly by him, which more often than not ended with a brawl.

“That fucking filthy chink,” Beckson muttered one day in the gym, loud enough for everyone to hear. Jack only smiled that deranged smile of his and put the water bottle down on the bench. Then he almost flew at the man.

Later, with tissue paper stuffed up his nose, still smiling, Jack shrugged at Gabriel’s question of what the fuck was wrong with him.

“I’m not fucking going to let the motherfucker insult my siblings, am I?”

Somehow, Gabriel thought the grin accompanying the blonde’s answer was, in fact, a teeny bit attractive. He pegged it as cabin fever.

*

All of the above made Jack Morrison tolerable, but not someone you would spend your time with or talk to. Until the Smurfs Incident.

“What the fuck are you watching? Are those fucking Smurfs?” Gabriel sighed, exasperated, ready to either tell Jack to kindly fuck off or to make up some lame excuse. “Wow, and that’s the shitty racist episode. You know they were fucking black in the original version?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel grunted when Jack wriggled himself onto the bunk to sit by his side and elbowed him to move the screen so he could watch too. “How do you even know that?”

“Hyung was fucking obsessed with this shit, had to dress up for fucking Halloween, twice as Gargamel and once as fucking Smurfette.” Gabriel snorted trying to imagine Jack in a white skirt. “What? I think I made a fucking fine Smurfette!”

“Pictures or it didn’t happen.”

“I’ll get Ma to send me some. Ha, get them, Azrael!”

It got the ball rolling. In the end, they were both kind of nerdy, although each in his own way.

*

Thing was, Ma and Pa Morrison were the God-fearing sort, Catholics, and firmly believed in procreation and populating the God-given Earth, so Jack was the middle child out of ten total, with four sisters and five brothers – all nine of them adopted.

Gabriel didn’t even try to remember the names the blonde gleefully rattled off showing him the pictures, especially since few of them sounded like something nigh unpronounceable. And yes, he had to concede Jack made a damn fine Smurfette, especially considering he had shaved his legs for the occasion. Though, a definitely manly Smurfette.

“Oh my fucking god, that fucking itched like shit regrowing, should have gone with fucking stockings,” the blonde groaned when Gabriel just tapped his finger on the aforementioned photographic evidence. “It got me five beers and a fucking date, on a positive note. And a shit-ton of sweets to divide later.”

“Dated a cheerleader?” Gabriel swiped to another photo where the blonde posed with a trophy. Jack, for a brief moment, looked maybe a bit angry, but then just shrugged.

“Arsehole. Yeah, I did. Went to prom, fucked under the bleachers, almost gave him a shiner week later when he fucking broke up with me because he had said he fucking felt he was obliged to give me a pity fuck before.”

Right. Gabriel knew a thing or two about computers, and it helped the school had no security to speak of. The yearbook had a page titled ‘The Kings of the Prom’.

He was in deep shit now.

*

With the restricted access to the outside world and a very shallow dating pool - not to mention close living quarters that made tempers run short - it was almost inevitable, Gabriel surmised in retrospect, that he had developed a bit of infatuation. The first time it happened, he had been cussing Jack out for keeping his boot-clad feet on the bunk.

“My fucking ass is not moving from the fucking bed,” Jack shot back while turning another page of a worn out book. Gabriel added what he would do to that ass under his breath in Spanish, and froze when he had realized what exactly left his mouth. Thanks to whatever deity that decided to listen, Jack casually looked up at him. “Yeah, fuck you and your little dog too.”

The second time it happened was during sparring when he had finally gotten the upper hand on Jack. The blonde narrowed his eyes, snarled something incomprehensible back, and then used Gabriel’s confusion to twist and elbow him hard just below the ribs.

“Puto!”

“Skurwysyn!”

“Vodka!” Someone called from the benches, laughing.

After that, it became a casual thing with Jack obviously not understanding a word except some most common profanities and answering in kind. Gabriel wasn’t really proud of that, but hey, it helped to relieve some tension.

It all came to a screeching halt two months later when a new supervisor was inducted into the program. The woman, almost unnaturally tall and lanky, with a skin nearly glowing with a shade of violet and raised decorative lines of scars on her forehead, was waiting for them just outside of the showers.

“Mister Morrison.” Jack stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights, his expression somewhere between pure shock and utter terror. “I get invited to evaluate and supervise the super secret enhancement program and while reviewing the personnel files who do I see enrolled?”

“Achan!” The blonde lost one of his flip-flops when he launched himself at her, engulfing her in a hug.

“Hello, little brother.” Well, Gabriel did comment on that. The little part, not the brother thing. “And here, Ma and Pa are thinking you are doing top secret ranger missions.”

“Oh, fuck, you aren’t going to snitch?”

“And what? Tell them their boy might drop dead any moment because of complex chemicals pumped into his body as opposed to being shred to bits by omnics?”

“Fucking touché,” Jack released her, laughing. “So I won’t fucking snitch you’re not working on your fucking grant, sis.”

“It was enough you weren’t home for Christmas, Jack.” The blonde groaned. “You are coming back for Easter, and, as a gift for the whole family, you can bring your friend.” Achan poked his forehead and Jack tsked, looking back for a second.

“That’s not really fucking good idea, sis. They’re going to start getting fucking ideas.”

Well, Gabriel had some choice words about fucking but seeing Achan’s brows rise made him realize that maybe, maybe, he had made a grave tactical error.

“I’m going to look the other way now,” the new supervisor smirked at Jack as if she were daring him to say ‘hold my beer’. The blonde shuffled on his feet and then turned around rapidly. The punch was solid, but not undeserved, Gabriel admitted to himself from the floor. Jack loomed over him.

“You want to tap that fucking ass, fucking ask.”

Well, it was definitely not his most shining moment. Honestly, it was as far as it got from the most shining moment. It topped even vomiting blood at three-months mark into the program. Gabriel resigned to it and went with the flow.

“Wanna fuck?”

“Sure, why not?” Jack shrugged. “Coming for Easter?”

“Possibly.”

“And call me a butterfly again and you’ll need a proctologist to get that boot outta your arse.”

“I hope this is the last time I’m playing your wingman, little brother.”

One wired jaw later Gabriel realized he was in love. The revelation had not been welcome. He urgently hoped it would pass soon. It still didn’t make the rest of the day any less awkward than it was already.


End file.
